


Despite The Cracks In Our Armor

by borrowedphrases



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Keith Week 2016, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Post-Canon, mentioned PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: After the war Keith and Shiro move to the mountains together, because it's both not the desert, and not near people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [keith-week](http://keith-week.tumblr.com/) Day 5: Love
> 
> Whoo! Managed to get this one up before midnight even with working at Anime Weekend Atlanta today (stop by tomorrow at table 925! I'd love to chat Voltron with you guys).

The axe comes down against the log, the softwood splitting with a satisfying crack as the two halves tumble to either side. Keith picks up one of the pieces, splitting it again, and then once more, before breaking down the other half as well. Nice thin pieces for kindling, his last woodpile task for the day. He already split the hardwood into larger pieces before lunch, stored them in the shed to dry out.

Keith sets the axe down on the wide old stump he uses to balance the logs on before splitting them, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he breathes in several slow breaths. It's not an oppressively hot day, early Spring is drifting through the air, and the humidity isn't so bad yet, but the work is still making him sweat, making his muscles ache. He tugs the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe sweat off his brow, exposing his stomach and part of his chest to the fresh mountain air. 

"If this is the view I get to come home to, I should leave more often." A warm voice calls from behind him. 

Keith drops his shirt from his face and turns, smiling when he sees Shiro coming up the stone steps that connect the cabin to the driveway down the hill, which itself connects to an old dirt road that stretches on for miles before hitting pavement. Shiro's got five very full cloth bags clutched in his arms, and Keith rushes over to take two of them from him before he drops anything.

"You could just never leave." Keith gives Shiro a lopsided grin as he hefts one bag over his shoulder by the strap, the other tucked under the opposite arm. "Then you could enjoy the view all the time."

"Keith," Shiro shakes his head, stepping up onto their porch and kicking the screen door to the cabin open. " _One_ of us has to go into town for supplies every now and again."

They move through the wide living space, large windows illuminating the place with a wealth of natural light. Raw wood, still rounded, built up the walls, logs stacked one on another, just finished enough to keep the temperature inside regulated and the bugs out. The furniture is wood as well - most of it fashioned by Shiro with Keith's assistance, just as the cabin had been - the focal point of the room a large brick fireplace they had laid in together. They'd mixed a drop each of their blood into the mortar when laying the bricks, something Keith had insisted on, to make this place really _theirs_.

"We could probably do with less trips into town." Keith sets his bags down on the dark granite countertop, starting to pull canning jars and canisters of salt and pectin from the bags, pickling supplies, spices that Keith can't manage to get growing in his garden, and other things they just aren't able to fabricate on their own. "I mean it's not like either of us has to work."

Strong arms wrap around Keith, steady hands linking together over his stomach and a sturdy chest pressing against his back. Shiro rests his chin on top of Keith's head, his adam's apple just slightly to the side of Keith's messily tied bun. He gives a gentle hum, and then a soft sigh. "Sometimes it's just nice to see people, you know."

"We see people." Keith sets a jar of whole star anise down on the counter, letting his hands come to rest over Shiro's as he leans back into him. "Every December when Pidge and Matt come to visit for a week, and I even let Hunk and Lance bring their kids for a few days so they get to see snow and smell 'real Christmas trees'." Keith mimics a small girl with missing front teeth when he says that last bit, remembering just how excited his niece was over a not plastic tree last year.

Shiro sways a little behind Keith, making Keith shift slightly from side to side, he tips his head forward a bit, nosing at Keith's hair and breathing him in nice and slow. "You know I like hermiting out here with you just as much as you do, but sometimes I like to have a five minute chat with the lady at the general store about the price of shipping watermelons out here, or trade opinions on the weather once a month with the man who runs the bait shop. You know, just idle, meaningless things."

"You're a regular social butterfly." Keith says blandly, squirming a bit to try and wriggle his way out of Shiro's arms. "Come on, this shit won't put itself away."

"I was thinking," Shiro tightens his arms a little around Keith. "Maybe we could have Hunk and Lance and Pidge and Matt come to visit during another time of year."

Keith knows Shiro wouldn't keep him still if he was really pushing to get away, and he doesn't exactly mind being in his arms, so he settles his squirming easily enough. He glides his fingertips along Shiro's forearms. One warm and covered in soft hairs, tanned from working out in the yard or fishing down at the pond. The other smooth metal, almost just as warm, but firm and unyielding under Keith's touch. Keith isn't afraid of Shiro's Galra arm anymore; it's been almost a two years since his last night terror, and three since the last one that had Keith waking up with Shiro's metal fingers clenched around his throat - Shiro chose to sleep in the guest room for an entire month after that incident, and Keith had barely slept at all. 

"Yeah?" Keith hums thoughtfully, drumming out a silent rhythm against the old alien tech, so thankful that it still works after almost twenty five years of running without a tuneup from those that created it. "When abouts?"

Shiro draws his flesh and blood arm away from Keith's middle for a moment, and Keith can feel him shift about behind him. He quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't try to turn around in Shiro's arms, deciding to wait him out. 

"Maybe," Shiro's arm slides back around him, his fist closed this time, metal hand resting flat against Keith's stomach. He shifts his head a bit, so his cheek is pressed against Keith's temple, and then opens his hand, palm up. "Maybe late spring, or early summer?"

Sitting in the center of Shiro's palm are a pair of silver rings, flat with rounded edges and a brushed matte finish. One is a bigger size than the other, a little bit thicker, but they're still perfectly matched, and Keith feels his throat go dry. "Shiro."

"Autumn might be nice too," Shiro continues, a waver in his voice now, and a tremble in his limbs. "When the leaves look like fire and the weather is cooling down." 

Keith sets his hand down firmly on Shiro's mechanical wrist, his voice somewhat choked. "Shiro. Let me go."

It takes only half a second for Shiro to release Keith. He knows that tone of voice a little too well, knows to take it absolutely seriously. Keith can hear the soft clink of the rings being set down on the countertop as his breaths start to pick up, becoming quicker, and more shallow. Shiro rests a gentle hand, flesh and blood, against the small of Keith's back, applying careful, non-confining pressure to steady him.

"Slow breaths." Shiro emphasizes with his own breathing, hoping Keith with start to mimic his rhythm. "In and out. Nice and slow. Lean on the counter if you have to."

Keith grips the edge of the counter tight enough to bruise his fingertips, his eyes shut tight, and gradually his breaths start to even out, his heart rate starts to settle back down to a normal pace.

"I'm sorry." Shiro says, quietly, sadly, after a few moments of making sure Keith is really breathing normally again. "I shouldn't have sprung that on you. We should have talked about it beforehand, figured out if it was something we both wanted. I can return them, you don't have to say yes, you don't have to say anything. I'm still here, I still love you."

Keith lets out a sound that's a mix between a wail and a sob as he turns sharply and grabs at the front of Shiro's shirt, practically falling against him in his rush to press his face to Shiro's chest. Shiro barely moves in time to catch Keith before his knees start to give out, his arms wrapping back around him, palms pressing wide and strong against the small of his back and between his shoulder blades. 

Keith is murmuring something against Shiro's chest, his words garbled and possibly incoherent. Shiro can feel him shaking hard in his arms. He's only seen Keith break down crying a few times in their lives together, but each time it happened it was agony for the both of them.

"I'm here." Shiro tries to sooth, rubbing slow circles over Keith's back. When Keith doesn't stop shaking, Shiro slowly eases them down onto the floor, drawing Keith half into his lap and holding him close, bowing partially over him, as if shielding him with his body is something that could protect Keith from whatever he's fighting with right now. He glides his flesh and blood fingers through Keith's hair in slow soothing strokes.

"No one ever wanted me." Keith says softly after several moments of calming down in Shiro's arms. "No one ever wanted me in their family."

Shiro hums softly, more a rumble in his chest than an audible sound. He presses a soft kiss to Keith's hair, his voice gentle. "You're already part of my family."

"Not legally." Keith closes his eyes as he nestles in more closely to Shiro, still gripping at his shirt with his fists. "There were a few families when I was at the group home who came close to adopting me. Each time I thought 'I'll have a family, a real family. Paperwork and all.' But they always changed their minds, never signed the papers, never took me home."

"I'm not going to give you up." Shiro says firmly, his voice is still soft and gentle, but there's a note of certainly in his tone that makes Keith shiver. It's not unpleasant, but it's powerful.

Keith shifts in Shiro's arms, pulling his way out of them, but not moving away from Shiro. He reaches up to fumble around on the countertop until his fingers find the rings. Clutching them tight in his palm, he settles back down on the floor, kneeling in front of Shiro. He opens his hand, the rings lying in his palm as they had been in Shiro's just before.

"You really want me." Keith lifts his gaze away from the rings, instead meeting Shiro's eyes, both questioning him and challenging him. "Legally? Forever?"

"Keith," Shiro settles his hand gently over Keith's, the rings clasped comfortably between their palms. He offers Keith a gentle smile, keeps their gazes locked. "I've always wanted you forever. We fought side by side for so many years, we saved the universe together, we retired here together with our pensions. We built a home, we built a _life_ together. Of _course_ I want you."

He scoots a little closer, uncovering Keith's hand and picking up the rings, holding them so Keith can see them. "I want to marry you. I want you to be my husband. The only question I have is: Do you want me to be yours?"

Keith searches Shiro's eyes, glancing back and forth between Shiro's gaze and the rings he's holding. He still feels a lingering frantic sensation inside him from his panic, but there's warmth in him too, the warmth he always feels when Shiro is with him, when Shiro tells him he loves him. They've been through so much together, death, war, exile. They've had their fights, their issues both together and independant of one another that they've had to work through. But Keith has never once thought that he'd be better off without Shiro in his life, even after waking up with his weaponized hand around his throat.

Keith can't find his voice, so he end up just nodding sharply while holding Shiro's gaze. The smile that spreads across Shiro's face at that is like the sun coming up over the lake, bright and vibrant and warm. He takes Keith's left hand and slides the ring sized for him onto his ring finger then holds out the other.

Keith's hands shake as he struggles to slip the ring onto Shiro's finger, fumbling a bit when it hits the knuckle and having to wiggle it until it's on properly. Shiro laughs fondly, and wetly, at that, then he links their hands, fingers threading together, their rings rubbing against one another. A pleasant shiver runs through Keith at that sensation, and he bring his right hand up to scrub at his eyes. 

Shiro leans in, and Keith slumps forward to meet him, their foreheads pressing. He sighs, still trying to find his voice, when he does all he says is one word. "Autumn."

"Autumn it is." Then Shiro brings his lips to Keith's, kissing him slow and long while they huddle together on their kitchen floor.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://borrowedphrases.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/borrowedphrases)


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